


Bruises and Bitemarks

by mellohi_disc



Category: Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Jamack-Centric, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:14:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26144677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mellohi_disc/pseuds/mellohi_disc
Summary: Jamack suffers, then realises something very important.
Relationships: Benson & Dave & Mandu & Kipo Oak & Wolf, Jamack & Kipo Oak
Comments: 6
Kudos: 58





	Bruises and Bitemarks

**Author's Note:**

> Hey!! This is my...second? Attempt at a fic since 2017, so I hope y'all like it! 
> 
> CW: Cursing, Blood, Choking, Asphyxiation, Injuries

Jamack was in deep shit. He supposed this might be the universe's messed up way of punishing him for chasing Kipo and her friends, making him feel the same adrenaline rush and fear that they had as he pursued them in the past. A strong howl broke out behind the frog and with a quick inhale, he forced his legs to push himself even further ahead.  
"Fuck- fuck, fuck, putain!" came the hushed but frantic curses tumbling out of Jamack's mouth as he hopped through the forest floor on all fours, in an attempt to escape the determined wolf chasing him. The summer heat beat down on him, making his head swim. Jamack yelped as yet another splinter drove its way into the soft skin of his hands, "Shit! Stupid trees and their stupid twigs." Of course, he was no stranger to fearing for his life and this was just one raggedy wolf, but this time there was no backup to cover his ass. A snarling growl echoed through the forest, the wolf's jaws snapping in anticipation. Jamack glanced behind, eyes wide in fear, instincts threatening to take over. The ex-Mod Frog shook his head and ignored the near paralysing fear settling in his heart. Glancing up at a nearby tree, Jamack felt a glimmer of hope. "If I can just grab that branch-" Before he could attempt the jump, another tattered wolf ran out in front of the frog. He'd been trapped. Herded like old world sheep. A swift kick to the stomach knocked Jamack out of his thoughts and with a single pained breath, he found himself being slammed against a particularly rough tree, paw in a vice grip around his neck before he could run off again. Jamack's mind and heart raced in unison and he panted, sucking in shallow breaths, scrambling to take in his surroundings.  
"Haha! man, who knew hunting frogs could be so fun," the new wolf cackled, pearly white teeth glistening under the summer sun.  
"I don't know man, I've been chasing him forever, I thought we'd be done by now," came the reply from his friend, who Jamack could now make out clearer without trees and the objective to run clouding his vision. Their fur was tattered, with dark grey-black marks adorning their forehead like a crown while singed white fur covered their throat and stomach. The both of them were covered in old scars. Outcasts, clearly.  
"Damn, this fucker is hard to kill," the second wolf snarled. After a moment of observation, the wolves words registered in Jamack's mind and a sick sense of pride rushed through his veins. Gazing at them, half-delirious from exhaustion and short oxygen supply, a weak chuckle fell from his lips.  
"A-as if I'd give up so ea-sy to some..." He licked his lips quickly before continuing, "Tête de nœud-"  
"Bastard!" The first wolf growled and the second wolf, the one choking him, tightened his grip. Whether they understood what he said or not, Jamack couldn't tell. And frankly, he didn't care. He had bigger fish to fry. With his skin so dry from the summer heat, he couldn't take in any oxygen through his skin. Jamack's mouth gaped open as he coughed and heaved, the action tearing through his throat, shaking his body mercilessly and clawing for any grasp on consciousness that still remained. Frantic hands scratching at his assailants steady grip, Jamack managed to let out a weak croak of pain. Evidently the strangled noise did little to sway them, claws digging even further into the bruised flesh of his throat resulting in sticky blood trickling from the wounds. Thick globs of saliva dripped from his open mouth and splashed on the floor, mixing with lost blood as he wheezed. Tears welling in his eyes, Jamack cursed himself. Stupid, he was so stupid. Letting a couple of mutts outsmart him. This wouldn't've happened if he'd just been more careful. If he'd just hopped a little faster...damn it. The frog swayed. His lungs burned, hungry-- no, desperate for air. His eyes bulged, looking almost comical. White scleras becoming poisoned with angry pinks and reds, while salty tears poured down his now blueish-purple tinted face. Already torn suit drenched in tears, spit and blood. What would his boss think of him now? Hell, what would Harris and Kwat think of him now? Jamack's surroundings were nothing more than a haze through glossy eyes at this point, static flowing through his veins. What he'd give to see a familiar flash of green peeking out from black and white, hear the voices of his long gone colleagues. The wolves cackled and sneered in the frog's face as the latter's body shook with strained sobs before falling limp. A roar pierced the air, howling out in rage and pain.  
"What was that?" The first wolf inquired, half turning to see behind him. Purple eyes glared at him from the shadows, a low growl hanging in the air like a promise. Tails swishing back and forth nervously, the two wolves glanced at each other. Before they could come to a decision, huge spotted paws stepped forwards and in a flash the figure punched the first wolf square in the snout. He whined in pain and blood dripped from his nose.  
"Get away from him!" The purple stranger demanded.  
"Who the hell do you think you-!" One of the wolves began, only to be picked up and thrown into the trees unceremoniously.  
Manoeuvring their body to protect Jamack, the figure replied, "I'm Kipo Oak! I took down Scarlemagne!" The two canines's ears flattened. "This frog you just attacked is my friend and you're going to LEAVE HIM ALONE!" Kipo roared at them, body shaking as she guarded the, hopefully just unconscious, frog's body. The wolves cowered and scrambled into the trees, kicking up dirt.  
"Lets get outta here!"  
"Agreed!"  
Kipo growled at them as they ran with their tails between their legs. Behind her, Jamack groaned and her expression turned soft. She crouched next to him, gaze lingering on his black and blue neck and the blood surrounding him.  
"Jamack! Jamack, can you hear me?" She begged her friend, hoping for a response. "M-my dad can fix this," She sniffled "He always did a good job nursing me back to health when I was a kid, and-and he always patched up my stuffed animals for me!" When no response came, she lifted Jamack up and over her shoulder with a grunt. "It'll be okay, Jamack. I promise."

\---

"Hey! hey, look! He's waking up."  
Jamack opened his eyes a crack and immediately decided it was best to keep them closed for now, wincing.  
"W-Where the hell-" he began, before dissolving into a coughing fit. A warm hand pressed gently against his chest, forcing him to lay back down.  
"Don't try to talk, you're pretty badly injured" The voice was deep and unfamiliar. His skin felt restricted and dry, he flexed his fingers in discomfort only to be met with a stinging sensation, making him grind his teeth in pain. Jamack forced his eyes open to see the situation. The first thing he noticed that he was in a bed. The next was that the mysterious voice was a man, Kipo's dad, the warm hands seemed to belong to him. Lio was pressing a cotton ball against a nasty gash on the skin of the frog's stomach, the rest of his bruised, torn skin wrapped in clean bandages. Jamack groaned. Turning his head he could see Kipo sat at his bedside, her friends all asleep close by. Jamack scoffed, they were a bunch of saps. Kipo was beaming widely at him, hands gently clasped around his own. She had her own injuries too it seemed, a patterned band-aid plastered over her cheek and her knuckles wrapped in bandages.  
"Thank god you're awake! I was worried that...well, that you wouldn't wake up at all," the kid exclaimed.  
Was it that bad? Memories of the past events that lead him here flooded his mind and Jamack grimaced in response. Wolf stirred from her sleep on the floor and stared at Jamack with concern. Her eyes flickered over him and Kipo, doing a checkover to make sure he really was okay before exhaling. Tension melted off of the small grumpy girl.  
"Took you long enough. Benson, Dave! Wake up," Wolf grunted, shaking Benson and Dave awake despite their protests.  
"Wha's happenin...?" Benson yawned, stretching lazily, only to make eye contact with Jamack and pause mid-stretch. He was quick to ask questions, "Oh! Jamack, buddy, you're awake! Is your neck okay?"  
"You're lucky our girl Kipo found you when she did! Scared those wolves right outta their fur," Dave chimed in, eager to let Kipo know she'd done well. Said girl smiled bashfully as various forms of "Woo, Kipo!" Erupted from the bug and Benson.  
Lio chuckled, "Jamack can't talk for now, but he should be fine," The man paused to smile at his daughter. "Good job, Kipo. I'm proud of you."  
Jamack watched silently as their concern turned to relief and then laughter, stress washing away like rain after a drought. He watched as Benson settled against the wall with his arms crossed, Dave insisted on perching at the foot of the bed, Wolf even sat next to the bed similarly to Kipo. Glancing around the room, Jamack's brow knit together. A warm, comforted feeling settled in his heart for the first time in...forever. They didn't abandon him. They accepted him-- no, they did more than that. A gut wrenching sob tore its way through his lips and he couldn't stop the sniffles that followed it. In an instant, his pack were all looking at him.  
"What's wrong?"  
"Anything we can do to help?"  
Groaning, Jamack lifted a heavy, buzzing arm to rub at his eyes. "Water" He wheezed out, voice crackling through a weak smile. "Just get me some water"

**Author's Note:**

> Putain - Translates to wh*re, used like shit or fuck
> 
> Tête de nœud - Translates to dickhead, used to call someone an idiot


End file.
